


A week after

by LenaLawlipop



Category: Guardians of Time - Marianne Curley
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sad Fluff, good/hopeful ending, in which I try to figure out how to cope with Lorian's death bc it still haunts me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23777773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenaLawlipop/pseuds/LenaLawlipop
Summary: "Have you been in Athens, then?" she asks softly. He shakes his head."No, I...""Arkarian?""I've been at his mausoleum."
Relationships: Arkarian/Isabel Becket
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	A week after

**Author's Note:**

> I've... finally read The Shadow.
> 
> I have a lot of thoughts and stuff, but this fic isn't about that. This fic is me, reminding myself of what my own characterization for these two is, and how I like their relationship to be like. 
> 
> I thought I wouldn't, but I'll admit, I went in trying to see it as a separate story, and I enjoyed reading it. I don't agree with a lot of the decisions taken in that book, so I'll personally continue to write stories in this fandom without thinking about The Shadow. I might dip into that book every now and then, but in my heart, my childhood is made from the first three books. 
> 
> Still.
> 
> I hope you like this little piece of story, it made me sad, but I really needed to think of Lorian for a bit after reading the fourth book, and remind myself of my fandom roots, so here you go. 
> 
> Love,
> 
> Lena.

It's late. It's really late.

Rain is pouring outside, so heavily he can hear it from the inside of his chambers when he materializes in the main room. He frowns, opening the door quickly and sealing it behind her. He walks out to meet her halfway.

She's... well, predictably soaked to the bone.

Yet she grins when their eyes meet, and she places cold, wet fingertips on his chin to ask for a chaste kiss, merely a brush of lips in greeting, before putting some distance between them.

"I brought spare clothes, do you mind if I change?" she waves a plastic bag in her hands. Inside it, Arkarian can almost make out the shape of a backpack. He smiles, confused.

"Not that I'm not glad to see you, but..."

"Let me change first," she pleads, and he chuckles, showing her to an empty room. He lingers with his hand on the door handle, willing it to become a bathroom.

"Please, don't die of hypothermia," he murmurs, only half-jokingly. She laughs, but she doesn't bother hiding the fact that she's shivering.

"You'd help me warm up," she muses, and her certainty is enough to send a shiver down his spine.

Gods, but he would.

"Go on, before I let you convince me to stay and do just that," he tells her. She laughs a bit more.

"I wouldn't do that to you," she promises, tilting her head with a gentle, understanding smile. "You look like shit, Arkarian, when was the last time you slept?"

He doesn't answer, but he finds the strength to at least smile. She lingers for a moment before closing the door, promising to be quick.

He hears the water running a second later, and he walks off to the room they usually stay at when she visits. She hadn't mentioned she would be coming over, but to be fair, things were really chaotic as of late. It had barely been over a week since...

She joins him a few minutes later. Her hair is still wet, but it's clear she'd at least attempted to hurriedly dry it with the hairdryer. Her cheeks are flushed from the warm water instead of the rain, and she's wearing soft pajamas instead of soppy clothes. She’s not wearing shoes, however, and she pads quickly toward him, sitting down next to him on their sofa to take her feet off the cold floor. He manages another smile.

"Better," he assesses, and she nods.

"Better, yeah. Thanks."

"No problem."

"I won't stay if you don't want me around," she tells him upfront. He starts to shake his head, but she insists. "I mean it. I just wanted to see you for a minute, but I'll go afterwards if you want. It's been really busy between school and helping Ethan go through the day. Everyone's crushed, and..." she breathes. "I just wanted to see you. I've been thinking of you all day."

Despite her sweet words, a flash of guilt passes through him. To be honest, he hasn’t had much else in his mind, other than… well. Him. He closes his eyes, and she takes his hands quickly.

"Hey, hey..." she seems a little sheepish. "It's okay. I can go home if you'd rather be alone..."

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, unsure exactly for what, but feeling like he should nonetheless. "Remind me what day it is, exactly?"

"It's Friday," she mumbles. She doesn't sound judgmental, but he hears the concern. "Why?"

"I forget myself a little when I'm not here. I'm sorry, Isabel, I didn't mean to worry you."

"I don't think it's something you've done, this time," she attempts to joke. He can feel his lips twitching in a brief smile. God, he loves her.

"Still. I'm sorry."

"Have you been in Athens, then?" she asks softly. He shakes his head.

"No, I..."

He doesn't know how to say this. He hasn't told her yet, and he isn't sure how she's going to take it...

"Arkarian?"

"I've been at his mausoleum," he admits. He opens his eyes to gauge her reaction. Thankfully, she doesn't seem fazed by it, not even surprised. She nods.

"I thought you would," she says.

"You did?"

"Well, I would have," she shrugs. "Athens must be... difficult, I imagine?"

"... Like you wouldn't believe," he admits as well, and it's like a heavy load has been taken off his chest. He closes his eyes again, swallows. Her fingers caress his softly, but only after a few more seconds does he manage the strength to look at her once more. "How is Ethan doing?" he asks her, because he doesn't know what to say. She looks down.

"Not great."

"I hope he's not..." he trails off, unsure what he means to ask exactly.

"He's angry, mostly," she says anyway, understanding without hearing the words. "He's sad. Horribly sad. I think he's a little scared that he might..." she takes a sharp breath. "I think he's _terrified_ he might end up like his dad."

"Shaun..."

"He won't, Arkarian. We'll be there for him. All of us."

He knows they will. He knows _he_ will, should Ethan come by. But he hasn't so far, and Arkarian isn't surprised. He doesn't think Ethan's had enough time to process it all. He wonders if _he_ has, at that.

"Ethan is..." she sighs, and a trickle of color seeps into her cheeks. "See, the thing is..."

Never one for hesitation, Isabel, and her sudden sheepishness alerts him. He waits, interlacing their fingers so he can squeeze hers. She smiles.

"Ethan doesn't want people around lately, but he's let me stay with him most of the time. I didn't think he would, you know? Because you and I, well... I thought it might be painful for him to think about us and..." she sighs again. "I try not to mention you, it's not too hard considering we're at school half of the time. But he was worried today that you might get the wrong impression. I hadn't thought about it, I wanted to..." she shrugs, and he frowns, unsure of what she really means. "I wanted to clear the air, I guess."

"I'm afraid you've lost me," he says after a moment, and she grins, embarrassedly.

"I'm a tactile person, Arkarian, but I can tell when people don't want me to push. Believe me, I want to hug you really badly right now," she murmurs. He smiles, about to apologize again when she shakes her head. "You need space, I get it. But Ethan needs someone to pull him from his thoughts right now. He was a bit worried you might see it the wrong way because I've been spending time with him, hugging him and holding his hand and stuff. I think Matt, or Dillon, may have said something to him. I'll deal with them later, of course, but..."

"I'm sorry they put those thoughts into your head," he smiles at her. "I'm not jealous, Isabel, if that's what you think. Or what they think, at any rate."

If her releasing her breath is any indicator, she's relieved to hear it. He pulls her closer, into his arms.

"I'm sorry I've given you the impression I didn't want a hug. I'm sorry I've been distant," he adds.

"If you wanted time to..."

"Hard to say, honestly. It's not like you could have followed me there, not even if you'd wanted to, not without wings. That was unfair on my part," he sighs. "I'm glad you've had the time to be with Ethan, though. I'm... I hurt for him. I don't know what I would do if I lost you," he admits.

Her arms tighten around him, but she doesn't immediately answer.

"Ethan kept me sane while we went to look for you in the Underworld," she says after a little while. "I can imagine a little bit what he's feeling, but it has to be even worse."

"Me too," he mumbles. "You've died on us once, Ethan kept his composure much better than me, I think."

"So, it's true..."

"I hadn't told you, because you didn't remember. Ethan wouldn't have told you if he hadn't been so desperate, either. But... yes. You died on your first mission."

"The one where Ethan saved me?" she asks. It's an innocent question, but it makes his stomach churn just like the first time, and like any other time he'd relived those moments since.

"The one where we told you Ethan had saved you," he finally corrects. "I was the one who brought your soul back from the middle realm, Isabel."

"The middle..."

"I've told you before we're soulmates," he says, glad in an odd way to have something to talk about that isn't... death. Well, at least not exactly. She nods against his shoulder, very much alive. "Only a soulmate's voice is able to pull a wandering soul back from the middle realm."

"You brought me back from the dead?" she asks, and he can't help but huff out a weak laugh.

"Yes. Planning to be a zombie next Halloween?"

Thankfully, she laughs.

"So that's how you know we're soulmates," she surmises after a moment. He nods. "Huh."

"And the fearless one emerges from a journey led by light and strength," he recites, and she gasps. "The link from the middle realm to the heavenly realm is a bright bridge. Your affinity to light would have brought you right through it, had we hesitated a second longer."

"That's how Ethan figured out who I was in the Prophecy, then."

"I assume."

She doesn't say anything for a bit again. She's curled against him, her face tucked in his neck, her fingers playing with the tips of his hair. Her breathing is relaxed, though their positions aren't the most comfortable, still sitting on a sofa, and she pulls back eventually. He does his best to hold her gaze.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" she asks, tentatively. She's visited before, but she's never stayed over the entire night. He tilts his head.

"There's a question," he arches an eyebrow. "Can you?"

"Ugh, fine, _may_ I sl—"

He's just as surprised as she is when he snorts, laughter forcing its way out of him like he's forgotten how to do it properly. She smiles, a little confused, but happy to see him laugh nonetheless.

"I _meant,_ is your brother going to send us both permanently to the heavenly realm for daring to seek comfort in each other for a while?" he asks her when he manages to stop laughing. It comes out a bit more bitter than he intends, but she rolls her eyes like she agrees.

"For once, Matt is actually on our side. He and Jimmy both know I'm here. I think they're worried about you, Arkarian."

"I'm..."

"Shh..."

She places her fingertips on his lips to stop yet another apology, but she doesn't kiss him, despite her thoughts veering briefly in that direction.

" _May_ I stay over, then?" she insists, and he can't help but smile.

"Of course. Did you actually think I'd say no?"

She stands up from the sofa, cheeks reddening.

"I didn't know how well you would be holding up. For all I knew, you might still need more time."

"That's a valid concern. I don't even know how well I'm holding up," he confesses, following with his eyes as she picks up her backpack. 

She rummages in it, taking things out and reorganizing them on her lap. Her clothes aren’t there, he assumes she’s left them in the bathroom to dry. She takes out a small toilet bag, a hairbrush, and finally finds a pair of fluffy socks with red dots on the underside. She sighs, putting them on as she answers.

"You're having a conversation and you haven't yet yelled at me. I'm counting that as a success."

"Ethan is yelling at you?" he asks, trying his best not to raise his voice. There's a hint of humor in her eyes.

"Clearly still able to get mad on my behalf. Cute, but no need to worry. Ethan yells at everyone right now. Like I said... he's very angry."

"Has he hurt you?" Arkarian asks, unable to help it. Ethan wouldn't... would he?

"Of course not. He tried to punch Dillon, but we all know Dillon is an idiot, he deserved it," she assures him. He grimaces.

"Yes, but has he _hurt_ you," he insists, a little softer. It seems to catch her off guard, and she looks aside. "You said he asked whether I was jealous. Did he try to use that against you?"

She doesn't answer for a long time, forgetting that she was putting her things back in her backpack. She swallows, but her eyes are a little glassy with tears when she next looks at him. She shakes her head.

"He didn't mean it, Arkarian. He apologized. Really, I promise. He's hurting right now, and he's doing his best. You could argue I was asking for it too, I can be a bit too much when I'm worried about someone."

This time he doesn't laugh. Ethan doesn't automatically get a free pass to be unkind to others, no more than Arkarian himself should. But he's self-aware enough to know that there is a stark difference in being shy of eighteen and being six hundred and something. He's not one to judge, either, considering Isabel is right there, having braved the mountain on a hell of a night just to check on him, with the very real possibility that he wouldn't have answered her call. He’s spent the past week mostly alone, after all, and the few times they’ve seen each other had been short, and a bit awkward. And, well... he'd had centuries to know _him_ , whereas Ethan and Rochelle had barely...

Arkarian shakes his head slowly, pushing those thoughts away. Really, he should count himself lucky that he at least has Isabel with him still. He wonders what's wrong with him that he doesn't, not yet at least.

"Here," he offers after a moment of silence. He extends his hand, palm up toward the hairbrush still on her lap. "Let me help you with your hair?"

If she's surprised by it, she hides it very well. She hands him the brush, and he stands up, pointing at the other side of the room. Her eyes follow his hand toward the bed, and he searches for any hint of discomfort in her thoughts. They're not shielded, but they're very quiet, so he stays away from them for now.

"More comfortable," he murmurs, but she doesn't seem to have any qualms in sitting on the bed instead.

He sits behind her, cross-legged, and is quietly thankful to have something to do for a change. She sighs as he runs the brush through her scalp gently.

"I don't want to talk about it yet," he tells her, unsure of what she'll think. Now that she's not facing him, he feels a little awkward. Thankfully, she opens her thoughts to him, and he can hear that she knows exactly what he's talking about. She's not mad, he finds with no small amount of relief.

"I understand," she murmurs.

"But I do want you here," he adds, and she chuckles.

"Thank the gods..."

Her thoughts are quiet as he works. She tilts her head back when he's finished, until she can lean on his chest and grin at him.

"Do you want me to brush your hair too?" she asks, and he can read how eager she is in her thoughts, how much she really wants to. Her demeanor is calm, however, she doesn't want to come across as pushy, and he can appreciate that as well.

"Sure, if you'd like."

"I'll be careful," she promises, but he shakes his head.

"Don't worry. Let me apologize in advance, though, I don't remember the last time I brushed it."

"Time is a funny concept when you spend it in an interdimensional pocket," she shrugs, and something in her words is funny enough to draw a chuckle from him.

Isabel has always liked his hair, he thinks, and it has always been endearing. And yet, the care she pours into untangling it threatens to undo him for no particular reason. She slowly removes the hair elastic and untangles it with her fingers at first, then starts working in sections, and bless her, she's comfortable being quiet this time.

Perhaps it's because it's her, or perhaps it's simply that he hasn't had his hair played with in years, but he finds her methodical motions soothing. He stops tracking her movements by the time she finishes with half of his hair. He can feel her smile in the edges of his consciousness, possibly from her thoughts, before he shakes himself awake. She's holding on the last section of hair by then.

"Sorry," he starts, and she pulls on his hair a little. "Ow."

"I'm almost finished here, and you need the rest. Don't apologize for being tired, Arkarian, sheesh, you're allowed to be human."

She finishes up quickly, throwing the brush onto the sofa with little care for it. She pinches at his clothes to pick up some hairs and shakes them off her hand onto the floor. It's odd, having someone care for his hair, but not in a bad way, at least, not when it's her.

She lays back, splaying her arms out in a stretch and laying on the bed with a smile. She looks at him.

"Do you have pajamas here? You don't live here, do you?"

"I don't," he says, holding out a hand and watching his clothes manifest. "But that's alright."

"Right," she chuckles. "I won't look," she adds.

She sits back, turning around before he figures out what she means, and he's glad that she isn't looking because he's fairly sure his cheeks are reddening, and he isn't sure how his face may be reflecting the overwhelming urge to squeeze her into a hug. She's adorable.

"You really don't need to do that," he tells her when he finds his voice. She shrugs.

"Maybe some of us have only that much self-control, have you thought of that?" she teases him. He chuckles, but goes along with it, changing into sleepwear and sending his clothes to his room. He'll deal with them later.

He taps her shoulder when he's ready, and she looks at him curiously when she turns around. His clothes are nothing special, a dark blue, long-sleeved shirt and black pajama pants. She tilts her head.

"Dark blue really is your color," she tells him, and she scrambles her thoughts enough that he doesn't know what to make of that comment. "You wear it often, and honestly? I'm blessed."

Well. That doesn't leave many options. He smiles, rolling his eyes a little, and she shrugs.

"Hey, I mean it as a compliment!" she insists, and he nods.

"Thanks, I think."

She waits for him to pull back the covers before slipping into the bed, but she's the first to rearrange the pillows, propping herself up a little before looking back at him, hesitantly. She presses her lips together before opening her arms, and he finally realizes what she's asking for. He slips closer, and nods.

It might have been literal centuries since he's last been held like this, he thinks, both of them shifting until they're comfortable. His head is pillowed on her chest, lips comfortably close to her neck should he tilt his head back a little, and he places a kiss on her skin before settling down. Her arms come around him, holding his shoulders, brushing his hair out of his face. He does his best to angle the rest of his torso so he doesn't squish her, but she seems to notice and rolls her eyes at him, so intentionally he can tell from her thoughts alone. With that, he lets his weight blanket her, and she sighs happily.

"Is this okay?" she asks him after he turns the lights off. He wonders if there's light coming from somewhere that he can't see but she could.

"As long as I'm not too heavy," he replies, just as quietly as she'd spoken. She chuckles.

"You're not _that_ heavy. Sure, you're bigger than me, but I'm fine."

They don't say much after that.

It's the first time they've been this close without being... well, distracted. Their legs tangle together, and with her thoughts still open, he realizes she's far from sleepy. She's categorizing each touch, the way she feels like this, with him. He can read how new this is to her, how exhilarating. How excited she is to try this with him, and how happy and relieved she is that she can provide him any kind of comfort like this. He burrows his face a little closer into her neck, pressing another kiss, this time against her jaw, and her heartbeat jumps. He can feel it against his cheek.

"You should get some rest," he tells her quietly, and she hums, fingers still running through his hair. Her thoughts become a mess yet again, but this time, it's one he's familiar with. The overwhelmed feelings and inside screaming that she's experiencing are mutual. She's being extremely cute, after all.

"Hmm... So should you."

"Hmm."

He’ll manage, this time, he thinks. He stays awake for a long time still, and her thoughts quieten long before his. Her fingers eventually stop their rhythmic caress, but he doesn't mind. Her breath is slow, and her warmth is magnetic, and for the first time in days, his thoughts aren't a constant spiral. He still finds it hard to settle down his mind, but for the first time in days, he barely thinks of his father. He starts thinking of his friends, of the rest of the Guard. It takes him a while, but he thinks of her... of them, together.

By the time he finally manages to sleep, he meets it with thoughts of their future together in his mind.

He doesn't dream that night. He's peaceful.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story :D
> 
> If you did, please consider leaving kudos or a comment, they're greatly appreciated!
> 
> If you’d like to create related content based on my fic, please visit my profile for my blanket permission statement!
> 
> If you want to yell with me and share more headcanons for these dorks, you can find me at my tumblr, [kyokotsukuyomi](http://kyokotsukuyomi.tumblr.com/), the comments section down below, or any of the links in my profile. Don't be shy!
> 
> Love,
> 
> ~Lena


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